


A Voice in the Dark

by Enk



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Zombies Run!
Genre: Abel Township, Alternate Universe - Zombies, Alternative Universe - Zombies Run!, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mission: s01m09 A Voice in the Dark, Running, Zombies, Zombies Run fusion, Zombies Run! - Freeform, prior knowledge of Zombies Run! not required
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-19
Updated: 2017-11-19
Packaged: 2019-02-04 08:53:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12767427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enk/pseuds/Enk
Summary: Loki had settled into the rhythm of Abel Township rather well. Running missions with Tony in his ear were routine and by now Loki had an excellent reputation as the best Runner Abel has ever had. Of course he had agreed on a routine mission to deliver and exchange cables with a Runner from New Canton





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Some of Tony's dialogue is exactly transcribed from the episode (some with minor alterations), but the timeline of the mission/episode is stretched out longer. It doesn't spoil anything outside of the mission and knowledge of Zombies, Run! isn't required.

Loki loves running. After everything that has happened, after the end of all things, running allows him to forget who he was before the end. Running is the best way he can forget even himself when the world ceases to exist around him and everything is peaceful and calm. He even grew accustomed to Tony Stark’s voice in his ear. In the beginning it had been difficult to rely on someone else. More than once had Loki attempted to rely on his own eyes and ears and Tony had patiently saved his life and reminded him why it was important that runners did not get themselves killed on simple supply runs.

 

Cables, Loki had been sent for cables. This was meant to be an easy run to meet with a runner from New Canton. Tony was not in charge of the mission. Of course it had ended in a trap and with Loki running for his life, bullets flying after him. Oh yes, he had been sent for cables and now found himself running for his life through the underbrush of the woods. He doesn’t know where he’s running just that he is, that there are people behind him with guns and cars and that his only chance is through the woods. Somehow he ended up with a solar charger, a baseball bat, and a sports bra hanging from a tree earlier. He shoved the bra and the charger into his backpack with his other supplies and ran with the baseball bat fastened across the top. It doesn’t feel good. He must have upset the balance of his pack but running from the trap New Canton had set from him, he had no choice but to run with a pack that hit him on the left harder than he preferred.

 

“Stark, I need an out.” He pants as he runs, but there is no reply, only static. Fuck. “Stark if you can hear me-,” Loki breaks off as he stumbles over a root and nearly into three crawlers on the floor. He yanks the bat from his pack and manages to bludgeon the skull of the one closest to him into pulp. Scrambling backwards, he avoids the second one with a jump and takes off in the opposite direction. He can still hear the engines. Loki knows he is not safe. He continues to run, hissing into his headset whenever he gets a chance, but only static in response. So, he runs until his lungs burn, until he can no longer hear the engines. His headset is busted, but Loki doesn’t toss it. He keeps it on his head. If- no, when- he makes it back and it can be fixed, Tony can fix it. Tony fixes everything.

 

The woods give way to a meadow and on the other end of it, he can make out houses. He knows this field, he knows the village that lies beyond it. Surely, it once had a name, but now nothing remains to remind anyone of it. The runners take training runs here as passage is- or at least had been- safe and the entire village had been cleared of zombies. Loki is only ten or so kilometres from Abel, but the sun is dangerously low in the sky and Loki’s lungs still burn. He can feel himself favouring one of his legs and the last time he’s eaten had been before setting out on the mission just after lunch. He has expended too much energy, he needs to rest and eat and find shelter for the night. He walks across the meadow, the grass his well past his knees so he has to be careful. It takes longer than normal as he looks for any crawlers, trying to stretch the stitches out of his side. Thankfully, the only thing he stumbles across is a single torn up backpack. Loki rifles through it out of habit and finds an unopened pack of party-liners. He shoves them into his pack as well and by the time he makes it between the houses, the stitches are nearly gone.

 

Carefully, Loki moves between the houses. The sun light is fading fast, too fast for comfort. Night is when the hordes move, and Loki doesn't have a gun to end things should he encounter one. He does have a knife and remembers what Claire had taught him, where to stab himself in the neck to lose consciousness within thirty seconds and be dead within a couple of minutes. With a horde, that would likely still be too long, but he doesn't have much choice here. However, it hasn't come to that yet. He's still alive and he still have a lot of fight left in him. Loki doesn't hear a horde, but he does hear shuffling steps beside him. Three, and they see or sense him or whatever the hell it is those things do. Loki doesn't particularly care because he has to run and without Tony's voice in his ear, he feels lost, almost runs blindly through the streets and when he shakes the three, he picks up a group of five he didn't see earlier.

 

At this point, Loki is so exhausted that every breath burns in his lungs. His thighs and shins are in pain as the lactic acid build-up affects his gait as much as his strained ankle does. He needs an out. If he just runs into one of the houses, the zombs will follow him and by morning they'll have attracted a dozen more. Loki's legs scream when he picks up the pace, but his choice is to run or die. _Runner Five_ , he imagines Tony's voice instead of the static, _I need you to find higher ground, a roof somewhere you can get away from them and make it to another building._ There isn't much choice. Most houses here have comfortably large gardens and are too far apart and their roofs would be too steep to scale even if they were not. He would end up injuring himself and then he'd be stuck. This would be much easier in a city, but then he'd be running from a horde. Loki can feel the air beside his arm move. He doesn't need to turn around to know they have caught up with him. He doesn't have much time left before his body gives out on him no matter how much adrenaline it dumps into his system. He has to run faster but every step feels like it turns his body into lead. Every movement hurts enough that tears prick in the corners of Loki's eyes. He's going to die. He's going to fucking die.

 

“Runner Five, Runner Five, are you out there?” Static crackles around Tony's voice and Loki lets out a relieved cry.

 

“I can hear you!” He all but sobs into the headset and somehow manages to pick up the pace.

 

“Runner Five, I don’t know if you can hear me. Our scanner’s down, it never works that well at night anyway.” Tony can't hear him. “And a couple of bits of equipment have broken down, so… so there’s no way to see where you are. Truth is, I… I don’t even know if you’re alive. Odds aren’t good, right?” The laugh from Tony is sad and Loki wishes he could respond.

 

“I'm alive.” He whispers, because it doesn't matter if Tony can hear him, because he can hear Tony and that is all he needs to push himself further.

 

He isn't alone anymore. He can do this. He turns a sharp left and jumps up and pulls himself into the broken bathroom window of the house closest to him. The move is risky, but the window is up high enough that the zombs can’t follow. It's ransacked, dried blood on the walls, but the main door is locked and solid. That will keep them out for at least a while. He doesn't stop. He runs up the stairs and opens one of the doors. The pain is almost blinding as an undead hand grips his hair and tears it out of the braid.

 

“You’re not even my second Runner Five, you know that? You’re my fourth.”

 

Loki can't think of anything but away. He can hear the jaw snap by his ear. For the second time tonight, Loki thinks that this is it. This is how he dies.

 

“I guess there’s no better reason you’d make it back than any of the others, but if you can hear this.”

 

Loki scrambles to prevent the zombie from grabbing his arm. It's hard, harder than anything he's ever had done. With what little strength he has left, he reaches for the knife on his belt. He remembers what Claire had said, reminds himself that death, permanent death is better than being turned. He grips the knife firmly, keeps pulling away so he can buy himself a few seconds. All he needs is a few seconds to get the knife close enough to his skin.

 

“Runner Five, if you're not dead or undead, please, Loki, come home.”

 

Loki screams when he tears the blade through his hair, half cuts, half rips the hair from his head and out of the zombie's grip. He tears the bat from his pack and kicks the creature deeper into the room. His swing doesn't miss. There is no time to check if it had been hard enough for a kill and he slams the door shut, carves a Z into it, and throws up onto the hardwood floor. His body rebels against the abuse, the adrenaline, and the lack of nourishment and water. He stumbles down the hall until he sees a window. A high-pitched laugh escapes him.

 

The closest building is about fifteen yards away. Loki fucked up. He should have found a better escape, but he couldn't think straight in the moment. He'd been alone and Tony's voice gave him unfocused energy to spring to action. But he can think straight now and he is so exhausted he can barely stand. Even if he climbs down the side of the house without falling, he isn't going to make it anywhere fast enough. He knows he’s minutes from just passing out here on the floor and he needs one last push. Loki turns around and looks at the corridor. He can’t stay here but he can’t leave, if there’s a zombie in that room, there might be more in the others and- that’s when his gaze falls onto the hatch of to the attic. It's a risky move and if Tony knew what he is about to do, he would tell him to find another way. Attics are only good escape routes if you know where you’re going after. Otherwise they are death traps and many a starved corpse had been found in them. But Tony doesn’t know what Loki is about to do and he can’t tell him to find another way.

 

The hook to pull down the hatch is long gone and Loki thanks his parents’ genetics because he is tall and his arms are long enough to reach the little ceiling hook on the hatch and pull it and the ladder down without making too much noise. Quietly, he climbs up half way and listens.

 

Silence, silence is good. Still, he leads with the baseball bat before he climbs all the way up. The ladder creaks on the final rung because of course it does. Loki doesn't pause. He doesn't wait for any movement. The attic is clear. He climbs onto the crossbeams and pulls the ladder up. It's heavy and he's quite certain he risks injury to his shoulders doing so, but there isn't any time to find out if any of the zombies either made it into the house or if there are any already roaming the upstairs. He closes the door as quietly as he can, the bat forgotten to his side. There is no lock and that isn't exactly something feels he should let go. Of course, who would lock an attic from the upstairs, it makes sense in a life before the end of the world. Now, it is ridiculous and he looks for anything he can use to wedge across the door. The attic is empty save for a few small boxes, a garden hose, and what looks to be a pile under a tarp. He is lucky and in the corner in the back of the attic, there is a pile of discarded building materials under a tarp, likely kept just in case. Just in case works for him and he carefully pulls a length of rusty rebar from the pile and feeds it across the attic door. If anyone is determined enough to come upstairs now, he will at the very least have warning.

 

The rest of the attic is fairly barren. There is a small window at the far end and a few boxes which Loki rifled through for anything good. It was mostly garbage, old insulation and the like, nothing he could carry with him. There was a box of old linens which smelled faintly of moth balls and a whole lot of must and mildew. In his previous life, Loki would have simply raised an eyebrow, sneered, and walked away. 

 

However, this no longer was a previous life and he had grown accustomed to 'roughing it' as Tony so put it. Tony who was talking about lowering the gate for the night and that wherever Loki was, he hoped he was safe. Safe enough. Loki dragged a bunch of sheets near the door. It would be warmest in the interior of the house and he had no plans to suffer hypothermia by morning. He lies down on top of the pile of sheets and pulls one up to his chest. He listens to Tony continue to talk. He tells Loki about the food everyone had for dinner, and profusely apologises for bringing up food when he doesn’t know if Loki has any.

 

“I promise when you get back, I’ll use two of my hot food rations to make it up to you.”

 

Loki smiles and settles in to sleep. He turns the head set down but not off and closes his eyes. It’s a risky move since he isn’t sure how much battery he has left but then Tony talks about how training went, how when Loki gets back they’re joining Natasha, Steve and Bucky for Dungeons and Dragons, Loki sighs and slowly drifts to sleep.

 

“I miss you, please don’t be dead,” Tony says and falls silent. Loki doesn’t hear what Tony says after the silence, but he sleeps as peaceful as he possibly could in a cold attic, with zombies by now crawling all over the building, every so often a particularly loud groan wakes him. But every time he does, Tony’s voice is there: “-hope you’re getting sleep, you need to-,” comforting and lulling Loki back, “- as a kid I love taking those apart-,” into a dreamless sleep.

 

A sunbeam falling through a cracked shingle on the roof settles on Loki’s face hours later and wakes him up for good. It is morning. According to Loki’s clock, eight in the morning. He has slept uninterrupted for five hours. His stomach growls, but he has no food. Instead, he chugs his bottle of water. If he gets away from the zombies, he can be home for lunch. He smiles when he realises he just called Abel home for the first time since his arrival. But it has become home, hasn’t it? Despite everything, despite all the shit that happened in his past, despite what he had done, none of that mattered here. What matters to the people of Abel, his friends, is that he runs fast and tries to be a good person. He can do that. He wants to do that. He doesn’t want to be haunted by his past anymore.

 

“-that one time I got so drunk and of course I had to climb the roof,” Loki smiles again as he listens to Tony, still talking away. His voice is a little worse for wear, a little hoarse, but Loki imagines that the sips he takes is hot tea and by the gods, Loki could murder for a cup of tea right now. He listens to Tony for a while longer as he stretches his stiff muscles and tendons, tries to warm them up a bit before he has to get going once more. He thanks the same gods that the ankle he rolled yesterday feels fine today. Every part of him is incredibly sore, but doesn’t feel injured. Loki knows that he can push through. He has to. Abel is so bloody close that if he gets himself killed out here-

 

“I know you’re still out there, Runner Five,” Tony says in his ear and Loki turns up the head set. If Tony still has faith, if Tony has been up all night talking for him. He can still do this. “I know you’re still out there, Loki. Come home.” It’s the not first time Tony has used his name on comm, but it is what gives Loki the final resolve to start moving. There is a tiny window on the other side of the attic, not big enough to escape but to look downstairs at the front door. The small group has grown in size twice over. Loki swears colourfully and for once is glad Tony can’t hear him.

 

The man still talks, tells Loki about the shit coffee substitute and if he is still alive, could he bring some? Loki does chuckle at that because he knows Tony copes with humour. That and the fact that he is still on air, continuously, on Loki’s frequency alone-, fine if he makes it through the kitchen or the pantry, he will see if he can find some. But first, he has to get out of this place. Maybe the zombs haven’t flooded the house like he had feared. Maybe what he had heard during the night were just the ones outside. He pulls the bat from the trap door and sits still for many moments, listening. He still has the higher ground and the advantage. So, he pulls out the rebar and pushes the door down, carefully holding the ladder so as not to drop it loudly. He manages to lower it without much noise. He waits again and when he is satisfied that he will not be immediately attacked, he climbs down, facing away from the ladder just in case.

 

The house is surprisingly silent. Even the zombie which had nearly killed Loki last night was quiet. It feels as though the entire house is lying in waiting for Loki to make himself known. Baseball bat in hand, he moves slowly, quietly. He regrets not having re-laced his shoes but right now he does not have the luxury of being so careless. Safety is and forever will be relative. He doesn't have a plan. He should, but last night had been...hectic and all he knows is that there is a zombie in the room next to him and that there are more than a dozen zombies on the other side of the door waiting for him to come downstairs. They haven't made it through the windows which is good, but the stairs lead directly to the front door. Loki doesn't remember if the stairs were creaky, but he will just have to assume they are. Slow, that is the most important part right now. Slow and steady. He exhales and lowers the volume of his ear piece. "-you'd make a great bard, has anyone ever told you that?"

 

Silently, he sends a prayer to whoever the fuck will answer and takes the first step. Silence. Nothing. He takes the second step. Still nothing. Okay, he can do this. He just can't get cocky as Tony so keeps telling him he is. Not his fault he is the best runner Abel has. It will be his fault if he gets himself killed though. So, he tries his best to avoid that and makes it down the stairs. He can hear the zombies on the other side of the door, growling, snarling, the occasional groan and scratching at the windows. They really were persistent. He would have expected them to disperse by now having forgotten he is in here, but he supposes that would make things too simple. He moves slowly away from the door. Thankfully the deadbolt is across so if they manage to open the door, he might have a few extra seconds. It's enough to let him turn his back to the door as he moves in slow motion past the empty sitting room and towards the back.

  

The kitchen is adjacent to a dining room which is adjacent to a living room. There is a sunroom. For once, he does not judge the lack of open concept. Each of these rooms is a barrier, one extra door between him and the zombies. The dining room even has a key in the lock. It turns quietly, locking him in. It is a gamble because he hasn't seen the kitchen yet, but Loki figures that if there were a dozen zombies waiting for him, he would have heard them by now. There are no zombies in the kitchen. Only another key in the dining room door leading to the kitchen. He ignores the tiny bloody hand prints on the door. Life is horror, everything is worse than imagined. He doesn't need to distract himself with the past. "-Steve agrees by the way, you'd make a great Bard. He says I'd make an even better one and I'm not sure if that's an insult."

 

It was an insult, my dear Anthony, Loki thinks with a soft smile before stepping into the kitchen and locking that door behind him as well. The smell hits him immediately. By now he is so used to rotting body miasma that he just pulls his shirt over his nose and steps over the mostly headless body with a towel placed over the remains of the head. Suicide. Not an uncommon occurrence, especially when bitten. Doctor Cho would like everyone to refer to it as quality of life control, but it is what it is. Loki checks the gun but there are no bullets left in it. Still after he pulls it from the floor with a piece of paper towel, he checks it expertly, dismantles it and puts it into his backpack. One gun, no bullets. He checks the door leading from the kitchen into the hallway, but the zombies haven't gotten in yet. He closes the door for now and looks out into the garden. No zombies and a high fence for privacy. Fuck these people he thinks because now he has to scale a two-metre fence. At least that also means no zombies in the backyard.

 

He opens the doors to the cabinets. It's been raided already. He should have known by the locked away zombie and the towel on the dead body. Still he checks. Raids are fast and sloppy and things often are forgotten, like the gun on the floor. Or the 5kg container of chocolate pudding in a tin in the far back of the bottom cupboards. No way is Loki carrying an extra 5kg of pudding with him though. And he doesn't have time to eat it. He opens the top cupboards and nearly cries. Someone vertically challenged must have raided them because there still is food in the back of the very top shelf. A box of granola bars, flour, rice, lentils, instant oatmeal, and a tin of coffee. Loki has to double-take when he sees the familiar logo on the tin all the way in the back even well beyond his reach. He climbs onto the counter without hesitation. It's still sealed. And it isn't instant. He eats the granola bars and pulls the rest of the food to lower shelves. He can't bring it now, but someone else can. Someone else can reap the benefits of his height, likely another Runner from Abel to go on a supply run. When Loki gets back, he’ll mark the house on the map.

 

"You really are getting sentimental in your old age," Loki whispers to himself and sighs softly as he pulls the pack onto the counter and stashed the instant oatmeal, variety pack, he really had won the lottery. He puts the tin of coffee in the bottom of the pack and hides it under some kitchen towels. It isn't exactly protocol. He should be sharing the tin of coffee with everyone, but not until he's watched Tony have a cup. He will share then. After all, he plays by the rules most of the time now. When he shoulders his pack and secures it, he looks out the window again. He needs to leave soon, but not until he scarfs down three of six granola bars and shoves the rest into the outside pocket. There isn't any running water which is problematic, but he will make do. He writes a note on paper towel and sticks it to the door: 1 dead body, 5kg rice, 2kg lentils so another Runner can find the food he can’t carry. Someone not as exhausted as he is. Though he does leave off the chocolate pudding in case he returns again.

 

The living room is quiet and Loki tries to ignore the bloody foot prints on the floor. They're small. Small foot prints are bad, very bad. They usually mean dead children or worse undead children. Tony still talks into his head set but Loki notices that the man sounds tired. Of course he does. Loki understands, he understands so much. Alas, there is nothing he can do to let the man know what he's doing isn't in vain. It's what's keeping Loki alive. He opens the sliding door into the sunroom. Still nothing. Still tiny bloody foot prints. He sighs and pulls the baseball bat from his pack. Dead child or undead child. He steels himself and closes the sliding door behind him. There is one door that leads outside, nothing in front of it but there is an entire corner of the garden he cannot see. It is humid outside and smells dank. The stench of the undead clings to the moisture in the air and Loki looks at the distance between him and the fence. He will need most of the yard to get enough momentum to scale it. Normally, this type of fence is no challenge, but he is exhausted, dehydrated, and barely fed. And then he hears the small snarl from his left.

 

Undead child.


	2. Chapter 2

The horrible thing about undead children is that they are always exactly how horror movies depict them. Small, this one barely grown past being a toddler. They wear pretty dresses and little suits and make it really hard to want to be around actual children. There are a few in Abel, that age, too. There is a reason he avoids them as much as he possibly can. Most of the runners do because he can't just leave their experiences outside of Abel. He can't ignore it because the little ones are fast and take much longer to deteriorate. They’re easily overlooked and more than one person he knew had been caught unaware by them. Most of them didn’t survive the encounter. 

 

Loki has no plans to die because of a zombie in a dirty cherry blossom dress. He lifts the bat as she shambles closer with tiny growls. They are truly only a danger unseen. He sees it well ahead of time and two swings and a run later, he pushes himself over the fence. He is alert when he drops to the ground on the other side, but there are no zombies in the adjacent yard. He closed his eyes with relief and continued walking. Perhaps the crowd in front of the house had been a small blessing because they all had congregated around the house and were no longer around. Still, he cannot allow himself relief. Tony is still in his ear and that makes him smile. He sneaks around the house and the road is clear. He eats another granola bar crouching by a tree before he begins to jog down the road away from the house in which he had slept. He uses his compass to get his bearings and follows it. He can do this.

 

Loki makes it through the village. He makes it out of the village and into the fields. The route isn't direct. It can't be. There had been reports of a horde in the forest. It adds several kilometers to his route, possibly an extra half hour but still, he is on his way home.

 

"Thank you, Tony," he whispers as he turns the ear piece down again. He has to be alert out here because Tony doesn't know where he is and can't be his eyes and ears. He jogs for almost half an hour before he has to take a break and walk. Then he runs again. His pace is off. Even if his ankle doesn't hurt, there is enough off with his gait that it bothers him. It bothers him enough that he dares to stop and re-lace his shoes even if he can't see what's ahead of him. He walks again. Then runs. He will make it home. He has to.

 

“I’ll make it home, Tony.” He whispers and keeps running.

 

“-ive, they said to me just now I should probably hit the sack sometime soon.” Tony suppresses the yawn in his ear an hour later. “They’ll send on someone else to keep sending out pings through the day, but I gotta be honest-,” Tony stops himself and if Loki hadn’t been running it would have given him pause. “A couple of zombs have arrived at the gates, and that usually means the bigger horde is on its way. The one I hope you’ve avoided. Maybe only a few minutes ‘til we bar the gate.”

 

The sudden drop in Tony’s mood is tangible. He’s been talking for hours, so Loki doesn’t blame him. Still, he pushes himself, runs faster.

 

“Another good runner gone. Another piece of equipment lost. And we’re-,” Tony sighs as if he’s trying to convince himself of the truth. “The next time I see your face, maybe I’ll have to shoot you in the head. Maybe you’re better off, see, is what I’m saying. I know we’re not supposed to say that, but… but sometimes I think, maybe, if you don’t have to try to build the future, you’re one of the lucky ones. Maybe-,” Tony breaks off again and Loki’s heart breaks a little. “What? What is it?” Tony isn’t talking to Loki anymore and Loki tenses but continues to run. “I told you, the scanner’s down, we can’t- Oh my god, is that… Runner Five! I can see you!” Tony lets out a cry that makes Loki pull the ear piece away. If Tony can see him, he isn’t far. So he runs as fast as he can and once he clears the trees, he knows where he is. He knows that Abel is just over the next hill across a meadow.

 

“Runner Five? Runner Five, if you can hear me, I can see you! Oh my god, Runner Five… You can’t see them, but there’s a tail behind you. Zombies, about thirty of them.” Loki swears but doesn’t look back. This is what they do. Tony is his eyes and ears and Loki runs. He has no idea how he picked up a tail of 30 zombies, but it doesn’t matter how. What matters is that he keeps going.

  

“They’re getting closer, Run, Runner Five! Run, run, run!” Tony’s voice is full of encouragement and a little panic. The same panic Loki feels when he can hear the grunts and growling. He cries out when he can see Abel when he can see the lowered gates. 

 

“Raise the gates!” Tony shouts and Loki knows that he has to get more distance between him and the zombies. He feels sick and dizzy but he forces himself to run faster. He isn’t going to die a few metres from the gates. He isn’t going to die today. He doesn’t even realise when he runs past the gates until he hears Tony shouting in his ear.

 

“We’ve got you, Runner Five! You’re home!”

 

Loki throws up granola bar and bile when he comes to a stop. His lungs are on fire. His entire body hurts. Every cell hurts and he can’t get enough air into his lungs. He feels dizzy and faint and just when he thinks he is going to pass out, an arm steadies him.

 

“Easy there, Loke,” Tony’s voice is in his ear, but it isn’t through the head set. “I’ve got you. Let’s get you to medical.”

 

Loki only coughs as response. It is against protocol for a handler to accompany their runner to medical. Or anyone really. Runners report to medical on their own where they strip to have themselves examined for any potential wounds. There is a quick quarantine if wounds are found. Everything else is treated and they’re sent back on their way. Loki doesn’t believe that Tony will let him go to medical alone. And he doesn’t. Tony steadies Loki whose legs seem to have forgotten how to work now that the adrenaline is wearing off. His nipples feel like they’re cracked and bleeding. His head hurts from dehydration. All he can taste is vomit, but he is alive.

 

“Thank you,” he says when Tony helps him onto the infirmary bed and Doctor Cho shoos Tony to the waiting area. Loki strips and there is no injury outside of terrible blisters on his feet. His prescription is a hot bath, which considering the resources is quite the treatment.

“A hot bath and I am giving you a card for six electrolyte drink packages. Have them over the next 24 hours. You will also get two extra meals. Tony has donated two of his hot rations for you.” She says as she puts six pills into a small baggie. “Tylenol, one every four to six hours. Feet elevated for the rest of the day and overnight. I will put everything into a bag and leave it by the bath.”

 

Loki even gets to brush his teeth before he slides into the hot water with a hiss. His backpack is with his clothes on the small bench by the wall. Epsom salts burn his open blisters and chafed nipples for a moment, but then, a comfortable numbness spreads. Loki closes his eyes and nearly falls asleep immediately when he hears a soft knock on the door. He expects Doctor Cho, but instead it’s Tony.

 

“Hey,” the man says, still quite hoarse, “okay if I come in?”

With a nod, Loki agrees because he’s too exhausted to talk just yet and Tony shouldn’t be talking. They shouldn't be doing a lot of things, like be in here together. Loki figures Tony pulled some favours in order to get access. It's a bold move considering Loki could have not wanted company. However, even Loki knows that things have changed since yesterday. That kind of effort on Tony's behalf for a runner, for him. That gives Loki a lot to think. Think he perhaps should leave until he is alone.

 

"Water hot enough?" Tony asks and Loki looks at his reddened skin and smiles. It is indeed hot enough. Perhaps almost too hot but after spending the night in a cold attic, Loki welcomes the heat.

 

"Yes, thank you." He says because he isn't quite sure what else to say. What could he say that would convey how much he appreciated that Tony had been there for him, that Tony had been willing to stay up all night? "How are you?"

 

"Better than you that's for sure," Tony says but he smiles. "Glad I don't have to shoot you in the head. “

 

"If it had to be someone, I'd rather it be you," Loki says without thinking. He truly must be exhausted to be so unguarded. However, around Tony that feels natural. He does trust him with his life on an almost daily basis after all. And Tony looks surprised as if he hadn't expected Loki to say something like that. Surprised and is that relief Loki sees on his face? "I would most certainly prefer not to require shooting in the head."

 

"Makes two of us." Tony says and sits down on the bench beside Loki's things.

 

"Makes likely everyone in Abel right now." Loki brushes what he said off, but when he sees Tony's face fall that does something to his insides he utterly dislikes. "Check the bottom of my pack." He lifts a sore arm from the water and points.

 

Tony raises an eyebrow but doesn't say anything. He does pick up the pack and opens it. There is the instant oatmeal, the dismantled gun which earns him another raised eyebrow, so he has to specify all the way at the bottom. That's when Tony pauses. That's when he pauses and doesn't say anything, doesn't even look at Loki. And Loki actually turns in the tub to see what Tony is doing.

 

"I thought I lost you," Tony whispers as he holds the can of coffee in his hand. "I thought you couldn't hear me, that I was talking into nothingness, at best to a walking corpse."

 

"I heard every word." Loki says, his voice lowered. "I heard every word. If not for you, I'd be dead." There is a very long silence that hands between them. Not uncomfortably, but it is there.

 

"I know-," Tony begins as he traces the letters on the tin, "I know we can't keep this, but... my bunkmate is on duty for the rest of the day. Do you want to come over to mine and have a cup?"

 

Loki nods, "I'd like that." Because he would.

 

Tony leaves him then and for the next half hour, Loki does nothing but soak in a tub of soft smelling salts. He had been able to take a shower before the bath and everything just came together in perfect tranquility. He is about to doze off when his mind conjures images of the zombie grabbing him and Loki startles up, body tense and ready for an attack. Of course, relaxation never lasts very long these days. He runs a hand over his face when he is certain that he will not be attacked and leans back into the tub for another few minutes. His fingers are prunes, his toes are prunes, and if he stays any longer, he might become waterlogged for the rest eternity. However, the water has cooled below the point of comfort and Tony is waiting for him with coffee- even if Loki does not want to admit that he would rather have a cup of hot tea, Assam or Earl Grey, something strong and comforting.

 

With a soft sigh, he steps out of the tub. And with a rather undignified groan, he reaches for the towel and dries himself carefully. He is covered in bruises but no open wounds aside from the blisters on his feet. He applies blister packs once he is dry and wraps them in the gauze provided before he dresses in soft drawstring trousers and a simple t-shirt. He doesn't even attempt to put on his running shoes. They and his clothes will be washed and returned to his locker at a later point. He puts on wool socks and slides into the Birkenstocks he had found on one of his first runs. He takes his pack, much lighter now that Tony had taken the tin of coffee out of it and walks to the station set up for runners to turn in the things they found. The oatmeal and panty-liners are most appreciated. The gun gets him a look as to why it had been dismantled, but he just takes his now empty pack and trades his slip for electrolyte drink power. Blue. The worst flavour but he does not complain. He shakes his bottle and walks into the building instead.

 

Loki still lives in a tent. Most new arrivals do until resources are found to create more permanent structures for them. Tony lives in what was a small cottage. Well, it still is a small sleepy cottage, only now instead of housing an elderly couple, it houses five people, two in each bedroom and one in the living room together with storage for supplies needed to keep the radio tower running. The door is open, so Loki walks in slowly as he stashes his drink sachets in his pack. The first thing he notices is the smell of warm food. The second thing he notices is Tony, standing beside a French press that hasn't seen action in months. His words. He watches the black liquid there and Loki smiles.

 

"Shall I give you two a little while longer?"

 

The look on Tony’s face when he realises that Loki is leaning- attempting to at least- against the door frame to the kitchen, that hits Loki in the chest in way he most certainly has not expected. He feels an unexpected warmth inside his stomach and heart. It does not surprise him, though, which in and of itself comes as a bit of a surprise. Things always have to be complicated with Loki's emotions. Particularly when he has not expected to have any sort of feelings after the world had ended. After he had to put a dagger to his father's eye and his mother's neck. After he had to kill everyone he had loved. Not everyone, Thor- he does not allow himself to go down that path. Who he is not who he was.

 

"I know you prefer tea, so...," Tony lifts a tea cozy to reveal an entire pot of tea with two tea bags. Assam. Twining’s. Loki doesn't feel tears prick at the corners of his eyes. He most certainly does not.

 

"I did not realise we had any tea left."

 

"We don't. I may have…, best if you don't know." Tony smiles. "I tried to find sugar packets but those are rationed even if it's for the star runner who survived against all odds."

 

Loki crosses the distance between them. They need to talk. They need to talk a lot. With words. However, Loki's body- and mind, not the rational part- have other plans because he places his hands on Tony's cheeks and kisses him. There is no hesitation from Tony when he wraps his arms around Loki's waist and pulls him closer returning the kiss, deep and slow as if this is what he himself had meant to do perhaps as early as back in the bath. Perhaps earlier than that. When Loki pulls away, they both smile. Words could be overrated in this instance.

 

"Thank you," Loki says and places a soft kiss on Tony's forehead. "For everything. For tea, for the hot meals, for not mentioning my hair, for staying with me even if you didn't know I was still alive." In his previous life, Loki had been terrible with speaking truth, with allowing himself to be vulnerable. But running for Abel with Tony, relying on Tony to keep him safe. This felt right. And while he knows that Tony had history with his predecessor, Pepper he believes was her name. She is also really rather dead and from what Loki had gathered the only similarity they bear is the number on their headset.

 

"I-," Tony searches Loki's eyes for something he finds because a smile spreads across his face again. "I thought I lost you and it- they told me to stop broadcasting an hour after you went off-comm. They told me to take a break, but I couldn't. I couldn't just leave you and fuck- I told you some fucked up things about me, didn't I?"

 

"Nothing I will hold against you unless you leave me no other choice, Captain Iron Man."

 

"Oh god," Tony groans. "I try not to tell that story. Also has anyone told you that you look like you tried to cut your hair with a lawnmower?" There is grave concern in Tony’s eyes and Loki doesn’t want grave concern right now.

 

"Good," Loki smirks, to wash away the look on Tony’s face, "that means I can use it as currency when we start playing Dungeons and Drago-" Tony shuts him up with a kiss and Loki most certainly lets him.

 

Then, Tony tells him to sit the fuck down and get some rest and that he will take care of everything else. And he does. Tony sets the table for them even though all Tony is eating is a ration bar and Loki has a plate of hot food in front of him. Tony pours him a cup of tea and even without sugar, it is the perfect cup of tea. They sit and eat in silence. Between Loki's exhaustion and Tony's sore throat, they likely should not talk in the first place. When they finish, Tony cleans up and then takes Loki’s hand.

 

“You should rest.” He says and brushes some of Loki’s hair from his face. “You’ll be more comfortable in my bed than you will be on the air mattress in your tent.” It’s both an invitation and an offer to relinquish his sleeping quarters. He leaves the decision to Loki.

 

“Stay with me?” Loki says and tugs on Tony’s arm as he walks to the man’s room.

 

“I will.” Tony says and allows Loki to pull him onto the bed.

 

They should talk, they really should, but Loki’s analgesics have just kicked in. All the pain he felt is dulled, still there, but he can move without wanting to groan like an old man. Tony is right here with him. Not on comms, not speaking into his ear, he is right in front of Loki, kneeling over him, kissing him. And if Loki can just get him out of his shirt, he can override the fact that Tony had mentioned rest. He curses himself when he reflexively hisses after moving his leg in ways his leg does not appreciate. Loki already knows what Tony is going to say before he opens his mouth.

 

“Rest,” he says because yeah, every moment Loki is still awake and not kissing Tony, his body reminds him that he just went through a touch of an ordeal. “We can talk in the morning.”

 

“Make out in the morning?” Loki deflects with a tired smile. “Got it.”

 

“That’s not what I said, Loke,” but Tony smiles, so Loki knows he has won this round. “We really should talk.”

 

“Make out,” Loki says again and yawns. “Sounds great.” He closes his eyes and the moment he does, he can feel himself drifting away from consciousness.

 

Somehow, he does manage to fall asleep before Tony can respond. He doesn’t see the soft shake of Tony’s head or feel the gentle kiss Tony places on his forehead before he slides down alongside Loki and pulls the blanket over them both.

 

 

 

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                 _fin._

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
